Facebook is Turning Us All into Brain-Dead Self-Centered Morons

Facebook is not your diary. I don't want to see three thousand pictures of you and your lover. I don't want to be spammed until I listen to your music. I don't want to read your stat's that could've easily been written by a four year old child. I am sick and tired of seeing this on my feed every day non-stop but there's nothing I can do about it. Because the truth is for most people life is a big pile of dog crap. They're unhappy and they want you to be unhappy along with them so they use Facebook as a way to spread the gospel of unhappiness. They could care less about your brain turning into a big mushy spoonful of nonsense. Whenever something positive happens for you they'll pray that it falls apart.

Facebook for some reason makes people assume they know you and everything in life that you've been through. There's a small pocket of people that seem to have a problem with everything I do. I'm an artist, so I understand this comes with the territory. This is the price of success on some level but it's also the price of jealousy and hatred from people judging me from a few things I've said on Facebook.

I was raised in a Section 8 house on a street named Grimshaw and went to Pine Lawn Elementary. We eventually moved, but this is where I learned about life's roadblocks. My sister caught the special school bus to Bel-Nor in the Normandy School District everyday. I came home from school and unlocked the door for her and my siblings while my parents were at work. We went through a sea of crap I don't like talking about. This is my life and it's not peaches and cream. But according to a small pocket of people I'm not allowed to tell you this portion of my story, simply because it doesn't jive with the perception they have from my Facebook page.

Me and some of my closest friends Family Affair and Rockwell Knuckles lived on the North side in the same house surrounded by undesirables and lifelong two-bit hustlers/criminals. We struggled day in and day out sharing McDoubles and value fries because we were often too poor to afford real food. I did some incriminating things during this era of my life in order to make ends mee,t but you won't find this out via Facebook because I'm not a idiot. I don't have a trillion Youtube video's where I'm holding up guns and throwing money at the camera so it's just not even possible that I've done some less than favorable things in the name of survival. The problem is you think you know me via Facebook so you have a problem with me telling the public this portion of my story.

I'm not a super thug, I'm not a stone cold killer but my life isn't peaches and cream. I'm just a regular guy living life and trying to figure it out as things progress. When I first hit the hip-hop scene I was a dirty, musty, grimey dude with a short afro. I stole food from the Barnes hospital cafeteria daily in the name of eating. I don't mention this on Facebook because I actually like to talk about other things that don't consist of proving how hardbody my life has been.

My largest male influence in this life is probably my older brother Black Spade. Spade pretty much taught me it's okay to be from the hood but not of the hood. He's the most hardbody old school male I know and he even gets criticized by haters in a similar manner. If I am in fact a byproduct of him then it's automatic that I'll go through the same thing.

When I first hit the scene I was basically out here like Old Dirty Bastard. I didn't care either because in some regards insanity was all I knew. So I get deeply offended when douches treat me as if I have no background story. My background story is 300 times more layered than the average local musician's. I didn't wait for someone to throw me a bone. I created the bone my damn self. I started from the bottom of the pile and worked my way up. There was no Facebook, and for quite a while I didn't even own a computer. I went to library to check my email and private messages. I had nothing and I lived a very jacked up lifestyle. Facebook isn't the place to share this with you and even if it is I reserve the right to not revert back to my lower self. There's nothing enjoyable about being a bum.

I wore the same clothes daily, I hardly ever had a place to take a shower. I wasn't a well groomed guy; my hair was all over my face and head. I eventually grew out of this because I knew deep down inside this wasn't the image I wanted to portray to the public. This in my opinion was the misguided lost and misdirected version of me. Even in the early stages of me discovering myself I still struggled to completely abolish my old ways and I still carried myself like a young man that was learning how to navigate in the world. I went from wearing cargos and Timberlands every day to putting on dress shirts and jeans as a means of trying to find an identity away from the version of myself that didn't have shit.


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15 comments
HappyQThursday
HappyQThursday

www.facebook.com/happyqthursday/posts/674182682613474

The time has come for me to share some awful truths w those w whom I feel closest. When I was young, I suffered from crippling fear that I was adopted and had a twin in a 3rd world country who was forced to eat broccoli and carry groceries for older ppl. Shortly thereafter, I was misdiagnosed w a rare mutation that gradually strips all sensation out of the left toe, eventually resulting in tripping everywhere I go. The meds they put me on rendered me unable to play accordion, leaving me unfulfilled, frightened & despising those humiliating signs everywhere that wld TAUNT me - alternatively flashing "Walk" & then "Don't Walk" (this was years b4 harassment laws). I became rebellious & walked out on my therapist, leaving her depressed until she nearly hung herself twisting health insurance docs into a long rope [she lived, thankfully!] and eventually quit Mahjong. In short order, my hampster's best friend Loosey died, causing a HUGE family feud over an apparent inheritance left by my demented Uncle Sylvester, further stirred up by my asshole brother-in-law, a corporate (FUCK them!) litigator who claimed Sylvester intended the stash for my sister Lucy & was confused bec everyone teased her, spelling her name Loosey. I was so mad that I broke into their trailer & stole her Barry Manilow concert coupons, which led to me being shipped of to F.U. Campus, a brutal refinement school, launching my hellacious journey being tossed from facility to facility, reading comic books at convenience stores and retelling the jokes to my fellow inmates for a quarter a word. Eventually, I got fed up & wrote a nasty letter to my congresswoman, saying I'm on a short fuse & she'd BETTER help. This was viewed as a false harmful threat, leading to my current imprisonment, as I await my fate. It's been months! And I haven't even been allowed to see my unborn child yet (!!) I URGE you. PLEASE share this & spread the word about the travesty of heart-tugging language-mangling on Facebook and God BLESS you all. TRULY 

Heather van Tonder
Heather van Tonder

Oh, no no no, FB is so informative and at times a platform to vent one's spleen. I enjoy seeing what the rest of the world is doing.

Philip Nations
Philip Nations

Its a powerful tool, its all about how you use it

Jeff Tiberend
Jeff Tiberend

And, your point is? Politics and religion, even, have done that to us. But, I really like to think that most people do think on their own.

Maggie Madonia
Maggie Madonia

Now I hate Facebook that I just wasted 5 minutes reading this....

Gregg Thomas
Gregg Thomas

How so? I read more, I am involved more with social topics, I communicate more with my friends and family, and I'm exposed to more information than I would have ever have been exposed to in the past.

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